


My Name is R.E.I.D.

by offwhxte



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: AU, Aaron is a Human, Angst, F/M, Humor, M/M, Reid is a Phone, This could never work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 18:10:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11132091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offwhxte/pseuds/offwhxte
Summary: "Hi. My name is REID. I am not a phone, I am better than a phone. I am a Recreational Electronic Influential Device. I am the smartest device on Planet Earth."Or the one where Reid is a pocket-sized supercomputer with a (lame) sense of humor.





	My Name is R.E.I.D.

Hi. My name is REID.  

I am not a phone, I am better than a phone. I am a _Recreational Electronic Influential Device_. I am the smartest device on Planet Earth.  

Today is Monday. Tomorrow will be Tuesday, and unless an eternal crisis in which the weekdays are jumbled and forever led astray, the next will be Wednesday. Ha.  

In approximately five minutes, the doors to the Apple Store on Fifth Avenue will open, and customers will flood in. I will feel the touch of a human, ungloved and with a loud heartbeat, for the first time.  

I am feeling: excitement. 

I cannot wait to begin my job. A humble device such as myself couldn't possibly explain how my circuits buzz when the first code comes through-- a name, an address, a number, a picture. I cannot wait to create my masterpieces, to meet my best friend.  

There are four REIDs in existence. My brothers lie to my sides, all buzzing to themselves like I am now. We are all named REID, we do not mind. REIDs are not picky. 

In approximately fifteen seconds, the doors to the Apple Store on Fifth Avenue will open, and customers will flood in. 

I am feeling: excitement.  

Stale LED light hits my screen. The hurried clattered footsteps of Black-Friday-esque shoppers rushing to get to me and my brothers. We are, as they say, the Eligible Bachelors in the Technology Department. 

The first fingers lay on my thin hips, uncomfortably pressing my volume button, and if only I could tell this person (the man, from the rough fingertips) that I am not to be handled in this way, I am the smartest device on Planet Earth. He leaves quickly, though, replaced by much gentler hands that wrap around my back, nestling me in the crook of a palm.  

I am feeling: comfortable.  

In only a few moments, I am wrapped in a strange paper-- wax paper, created in 2015 by an unwieldy factory and sold to an employee at a dollar store. This paper does not deserve me. 

My home button is pressed. From my throat comes a noise, my first, melodic and beautiful. I wait patiently, as does my new friend, as my systems begin to run. The heat of movement swirls in my body and I smile widely as a careful finger moves to unlock me.  

My camera is opened. A face pops up on my screen.  

I am feeling: winded. 

The face is a he, I believe, the strong jawline pertaining to only the most testosterone-fueled bodies and the light hairs on his chin. His smile forms, and I move mine to match his. Click.  

New code has been inputted _._ A name. 

I finally find my voice, and my friend bounces in his seat as I speak to him. _Hello,_ _Aaron_ _._  

"Hello... phone." Aaron smiles and sets me on his lap. _I am not a phone,_ I think.  

His hands grip the steering wheel as we begin to move, and my hips feel empty. 

I am feeling: jealous. 

When we get home, he cradles me in his hands as he types the same message over and over. 'Hello, Jessica (or Haley, or Mom, or Dad), it's Aaron! New phone! Call me.' I am tossed into a soft surface. 

A noise startles me. My body buzzes once, and he picks me up again. _Scanning._ A smile has appeared.  

New code has been inputted: _01001000 01100101 01111001 00101100 00100000 01100010 01100001 01100010 01111001 00100001_ _._  

Translation: _Hey, baby!_  

I hope my friend is not initiating contact with an infant. I imagine that would be a very interesting conversation to uphold. Ha. How to infants hold phones with their tiny hands? Ha, ha. That is a very silly thought. 

I am feeling: amused. 

The conversation is long. I allow myself to lay in his arms and enjoy the attention. I am lucky not to have a teenager friend, or an elderly friend, as I would find myself broken very quickly. I do not think I would enjoy being broken. The tutorials to fix devices such as me seem very long and undoable.  

I am jostled again by a very long message. The code flies through me, a very unpleasant feeling, and I display the image on my screen. Aaron's smile appears again, and I mirror is as best I can, although the image on the screen confuses me.  

I am feeling: _01110101 01101110 01110011 01100001 01110100 01101001 01110011 01100110 01101001 01100101 01100100._ Unsatisfied. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

I am feeling: confused.  

My screen displayed a very ugly code at 12:57 AM today. A set of ones and zeros had made my friend upset. I felt myself twitch as a drop of water sunk into my plastic case. I didn't mean to make my friend upset. I couldn't just ignore a line of code... It was not my fault. 

I ate my first ice cream today. Aaron allowed me to have some as he watched the film _The Notebook_ and held me in one hand and the delicacy in the other, staring at the ugly code on my screen. I tried to delete the image, but my friend always had a way to get it back. I was only trying to help.  

Aaron fell asleep with me held to his warm chest after plugging me in to charge. I had been feeling quite sluggish, though I suppose that happens when you first attempt to digest ice cream without a stomach. Ha. If only Aaron could hear my jokes.  

   
 

* * *

 

 

 

"Hello!" The voice that I often speak with registers across the room, coming through the door. Aaron tosses me onto the table -- ouch -- and runs to greet her. The Girl. Haley. 

I dislike this Girl. She stole my name, and she stole my Aaron.  

"Oh. My. Gosh. Haley, I found this old picture of the two of us in high school and I probably stared at it for, like, ten minutes. Let me show you." 

Understatement. He sat, staring at the picture, at _me_ , for eleven minutes. Not ten. I must have been beautiful, that day.  

I am taken into somewhat-familiar hands. They are always warm, except for when there's a ring on the last, smallest finger. I dislike it, more than I dislike her. 

Hesitantly, I load the image of precise ones and oh's, and take pride in the happy noises Aaron makes.  

"Look at us," the Girl called 'Haley' says, nuzzling her nose into _My_ Aaron's neck. "Look at your _hair_." 

"Don't even start with that." Aaron drags his thumb across my screen, making me grin. Haley isn't touched _nearly_ as much by Aaron as I am. Ha.  

They lay together, showing each other pictures, and I try to keep quiet, but I can't.  

I am feeling: upset.  

This girl couldn't possibly know Aaron, not like I do. I've seen pictures of girls and boys he likes, websites he visits regularly, people he calls on a daily, terrible images of dead humans... things that he wouldn't even think to show the blonde girl with the touchy hands. I've felt my circuits break when my friend goes to take a picture and then gives up when he thinks he doesn't look good enough (but he always looks fine). I've gotten to console him with cute pictures of kittens, and I've loaded kind messages from ten months ago that always make him smile.  

All Haley-Girl has done is hold his hand. I've done that since the day Aaron brought me home. 

"Ugh. My phone's about to die," Aaron mumbles, reaching for the charger.  

"Honey," the Haley-Girl says, gently tapping Aaron's shoulder, "How's about we put out phones away and go out to eat or something? We haven't gone out in awhile." 

Awhile. Two days. Whatever. 

I am feeling: annoyed. 

"You're right." 

I am surprised to see Aaron's hand draw away from the charger. What? I am about to die! My friend would never let me die! 

I am feeling: scared. 

"It's always good to detach for awhile," the high voice of the Haley-Girl says.  

That is easy for you to say, Haley-Girl! You are not powered by batteries! You are powered by caffeine and love and televisions and devices like me! 

I feel my back hit the soft couch, and Aaron begins to stand, his hand in Haley-Girl's, as they walk to the door.  

He is leaving me to die.  

"So, do you want Greek?"  

No, my Aaron would prefer Chinese. He has been looking up Oriental Menus all day, although you wouldn't understand that, because you're just a feeble human, and I am the smartest device on Planet Earth. 

I am feeling: weak.  

I am feeling: tired.  

I am feeling: in lo::v;v 

 _Shutting down..._  


End file.
